Slide
by xMisaki-chan
Summary: "You can't just leave me here alone! You need me!" I argue. "You're not coming." He stares at me, daring me to disagree, and for a second, I recognize unbearablesadnesspainregret. I blink, and it's gone.


**Author's Note: I started this story in my Journalism class today, after having a random burst of inspiration for writing. Go figure xD First published Death Note story, so go easy on me, please! I honestly have no idea what I'm planning to do with this, or where it's going to go, even, but hopefully it'll be a fun journey. Reviews, favorites, alerts, and constructive criticism are much appreciated, as always, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Death Note is owned by Tsugumi Ohba & Takeshi Obata, and as I am not one of those people, I do not own it. I own the plotline (wait, there's a plot?) of this fanfiction only.**

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><p>Chapter One<p>

"I'm leaving."

When Mello first said those words to me, I thought he was joking. Surely he wouldn't leave everything he had behind…would he?

"Give me a bit to pack then, alright? I need to decide what—"

"Matt, you're not coming with me. You can't. I'm going alone."

I freeze, the grin sliding off of my face almost instantly.

"You can't just leave me here alone! You need me!" I argue. He needed to think about this, needed to realize that without him, I was nothing.

Mello was the one who got me to talk when I first came here, the one who kept me from locking myself up with games & energy drinks for the rest of my life. I needed him, as selfish as it might sound. I knew that he would be perfectly alright on his own, maybe even better, but I couldn't let him do that.

Knowing Mello, he'd do something idiotic to "get things done" and end up blowing himself to bits. I couldn't just stand by and watch as he destroyed himself for his purpose, and I would feel even worse letting him go—knowing that yes, he'd get hurt and yes, he's most likely going to die, but not doing anything to stop him.

"You're not coming." He stares at me, daring me to disagree, and for a second, I recognize _unbearablesadnesspainregret_. I blink, and it's gone.

"Mello, please. I can do anything you need me to, hack anyone and anything. Hell, I'll even do your shopping. I don't mind, I just don't want you to go alone—" I take a shaky breath, my eyes watery and my throat clogged. I'm babbling, pleading at this point, but I don't care. I want Mello.

"Matt." His voice is noticeably softer now, and his eyes are less harsh than before. "Matty, you can't come. I have to do this. It'll be too dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You don't **have** to go, though! You can stay here and once we're older, we'll go get ourselves a place anywhere you'd like, and we won't have to worry about Kira or Near or anything. We can be happy!" I choke on a sob. I'm desperate, pulling out anything I can think of to make Mello stay with me.

"I have to catch Kira. He killed L, Matty. He needs to be stopped, and it needs to be soon. I need to beat Near." Determination shines in his eyes, his face hardening at the mention of his rival.

"You're number one to me, Mels." I shake, trying to hold in the tears that won't stop flowing. I will not let Mello go without putting up the best fight I can, so I steel myself to continue battling my best friend.

Mello looks at me sadly. "Thanks. But you know how I am, Matt. I have to do this."

I shake my head. "Either I go with you, or neither of us go."

"Matty, I can't—"

"Mello. You know how _I_ am. I have to help you if I can.

Mello sighs, resigned to the fact that I am a stubborn bitch, and pulls another bag out of his closet. "Pack your shit. We're leaving tomorrow at sunrise."

I smile, beginning to stuff every gaming console I own in the bag. Mello had already smuggled food from the kitchen==canned soup, cereal, chocolate (for him), and lollipops (for me)—and was working on getting his pack to zip shut.

Time passed. We chatted easily, as we usually did, and stuck to lighter topics ("Did Hitler even exist? What if it was really the English government who started the Holocaust?" "Don't be ridiculous, Matt; that's like saying chocolate is made out of plastic and babies."), distracting ourselves from the journey we'd start the next morning.

I snuggle into my blankets, knowing I likely wouldn't sleep this well again for years, and sigh contentedly.

"Good night, Mels!"

"Night, Matt."

"See you in the morning! Love you!"

And, when I was just about to succumb to my exhaustion, I could've sworn I heard a soft "Love you too, Matty."


End file.
